You know those movies where two people are making dinner together and one of them spills food on the floor and before you know it they are in a full-on food fight in their own kitchen? There is spaghetti flying everywhere, sauce on the ceiling, and through it all, they are just laughing. A saucepan becomes a shield, a wooden spoon a sword, and the hungry children must be rescued from the fire breathing dragon.
Not at my house.
At my house when I spill food on the floor, I follow it down to the ground because I'm so overwhelmed half the time. When the food gets burnt, instead of laughing it off, I apologize throughout the whole meal because it didn't turn out the way I had planned. Sound familiar? This is literally my life every single day.
Except for Thursday.
Thursday all the noodles ended up on the floor, like the whole bag. I rinsed them off while the water came to a boil and stuck them back in the bag to keep them clean. Then the noodles all stuck together. Then I forgot to start a timer. Then the noodles wouldn't come apart. I wanted to give up and order pizza, but instead, I said "no way!" I laughed instead. I think Sterling thought I was crazy because he nervously laughed along and asked if I was okay. I told him that I wasn't, but I was going to be.
He helped me get the noodles apart, we set the table, and had dinner. It was really a very normal dinner, and it was so nice. It was nice to feel like a normal family for once.
And then I started reading over everything that needed to get done before Friday and I could feel the anxiety rising. I felt like a volcano erupting. I turned around and said, "Sterling?!" That was all I could get out without risking a total eruption.
I took deep breaths. Drank some water. Paced back and forth. I thought I would be okay, so I started explaining what was overwhelming me and the next wave hit, stronger than before. I drank more water, took more deep breaths, started to cry, but I decided to say a prayer this time. Not aloud, just in my heart.
God listened. He listened and sent a wave of calmness and peace over my heart.
Just like that, the anxiety was gone.
It didn't use to be like that though.
I used to cry uncontrollably about nothing for hours. (I still do sometimes).
I used to come home feeling like I wasn't good enough and that nothing I did would ever amount to anything. (I still do, sometimes).
I used to tell myself that I would never be perfect and that I was not worth the love of another person. (I don't anymore).
I used to tell myself I wasn't pretty, beautiful, sexy, or anything. I was just plain old, boring me. (I still try sometimes, but my husband corrects me).
I used to let anxiety get the best of me. (I still do sometimes).
But I have decided that like the people in the Book of Mormon and so many others, I want to fight for my personal life and liberty. I want the freedom to spill spaghetti on the floor and laugh about it. I want the freedom to look at all of my assignments and say, alright, I can handle that. I want the freedom to get back up each time I get knocked down. I want to be a wife who supports her husband. I want to be a mom who plays with her kids. I want to be courageous.
So I remind myself every day that I am a daughter, a child of God, and that He created me for something. "He made (me) beautiful inside, He made (me) lovely to His eyes." I don't want to "pay attention to the doubt and the lies" because "Satan's a wolf in a sheep's disguise."
One night when I was feeling particularly overwhelmed and sorry for myself, I started writing a poem. It has always been something I do to calm down and clear my head. I started:
"Have you every felt,
unloved, unwanted?
The things people say,
leaving you haunted.
No matter how many times,
someone tells you you're pretty.
The things that stick inside your mind,
are hurtful words and pity?"
I threw my notebook across the room. I was so frustrated. I had just gotten off the phone with a friend and he had told me to read my scriptures, but I didn't want to. I just wanted to tell someone how I felt. That I felt hurt and worthless and that I would never do anything right. The thought came again, "read your scriptures and pray." I let his voice echo through my mind before I decided he was right. I opened up the Book of Mormon and started to read. I felt calmer. The Spirit then started whispering in my ear:
"When you feel like,
you can't go on.
When you feel like,
everything you do is wrong.
Please, remember,
you're not alone.
Please, remember,
just where you come from."
In twenty minutes, I had written the whole song. Today I would like to share it with you. So, to anybody out there who feels like they aren't good enough, this is for you.
Lyrics:
Not at my house.
At my house when I spill food on the floor, I follow it down to the ground because I'm so overwhelmed half the time. When the food gets burnt, instead of laughing it off, I apologize throughout the whole meal because it didn't turn out the way I had planned. Sound familiar? This is literally my life every single day.
Except for Thursday.
Thursday all the noodles ended up on the floor, like the whole bag. I rinsed them off while the water came to a boil and stuck them back in the bag to keep them clean. Then the noodles all stuck together. Then I forgot to start a timer. Then the noodles wouldn't come apart. I wanted to give up and order pizza, but instead, I said "no way!" I laughed instead. I think Sterling thought I was crazy because he nervously laughed along and asked if I was okay. I told him that I wasn't, but I was going to be.
He helped me get the noodles apart, we set the table, and had dinner. It was really a very normal dinner, and it was so nice. It was nice to feel like a normal family for once.
And then I started reading over everything that needed to get done before Friday and I could feel the anxiety rising. I felt like a volcano erupting. I turned around and said, "Sterling?!" That was all I could get out without risking a total eruption.
I took deep breaths. Drank some water. Paced back and forth. I thought I would be okay, so I started explaining what was overwhelming me and the next wave hit, stronger than before. I drank more water, took more deep breaths, started to cry, but I decided to say a prayer this time. Not aloud, just in my heart.
God listened. He listened and sent a wave of calmness and peace over my heart.
Just like that, the anxiety was gone.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It didn't use to be like that though.
I used to cry uncontrollably about nothing for hours. (I still do sometimes).
I used to come home feeling like I wasn't good enough and that nothing I did would ever amount to anything. (I still do, sometimes).
I used to tell myself that I would never be perfect and that I was not worth the love of another person. (I don't anymore).
I used to tell myself I wasn't pretty, beautiful, sexy, or anything. I was just plain old, boring me. (I still try sometimes, but my husband corrects me).
I used to let anxiety get the best of me. (I still do sometimes).
But I have decided that like the people in the Book of Mormon and so many others, I want to fight for my personal life and liberty. I want the freedom to spill spaghetti on the floor and laugh about it. I want the freedom to look at all of my assignments and say, alright, I can handle that. I want the freedom to get back up each time I get knocked down. I want to be a wife who supports her husband. I want to be a mom who plays with her kids. I want to be courageous.
So I remind myself every day that I am a daughter, a child of God, and that He created me for something. "He made (me) beautiful inside, He made (me) lovely to His eyes." I don't want to "pay attention to the doubt and the lies" because "Satan's a wolf in a sheep's disguise."
One night when I was feeling particularly overwhelmed and sorry for myself, I started writing a poem. It has always been something I do to calm down and clear my head. I started:
"Have you every felt,
unloved, unwanted?
The things people say,
leaving you haunted.
No matter how many times,
someone tells you you're pretty.
The things that stick inside your mind,
are hurtful words and pity?"
I threw my notebook across the room. I was so frustrated. I had just gotten off the phone with a friend and he had told me to read my scriptures, but I didn't want to. I just wanted to tell someone how I felt. That I felt hurt and worthless and that I would never do anything right. The thought came again, "read your scriptures and pray." I let his voice echo through my mind before I decided he was right. I opened up the Book of Mormon and started to read. I felt calmer. The Spirit then started whispering in my ear:
"When you feel like,
you can't go on.
When you feel like,
everything you do is wrong.
Please, remember,
you're not alone.
Please, remember,
just where you come from."
In twenty minutes, I had written the whole song. Today I would like to share it with you. So, to anybody out there who feels like they aren't good enough, this is for you.
Have you ever felt,
unloved, unwanted?
The things people say,
leaving you haunted?
No matter how many times,
someone tells you you're pretty,
the thing that sticks inside your mind,
are hurtful words and pity?
When you feel like,
you can't go on,
when you feel like,
everything you do is wrong.
(Chorus):
Please remember,
you're not alone.
Please remember,
just where you come from.
You're Father He loves you,
He knows who you are.
He's there to protect you,
to be your bright guiding star.
He made you,
beautiful inside.
He made you,
lovely to his eyes.
Look in the mirror,
face your reflection.
Let God's love shine through you,
you're His creation.
Some will tell you,
that you don't belong.
You're an ugly duckling,
when in fact you're a swan.
So don't pay attention,
to the doubt and the lies.
Satan's a wolf in a
sheep's disguise.
(Chorus)
Don't give up hope.
Don't give up love.
Hold fast to your faith.
He's watching you above.
Look into your soul,
find out what makes you, you.
He made you,
with a purpose firm and true.
Don't be afraid,
He loves you for who you are.
Don't try to run away,
He will find you and bring you home.
(Chorus)
Please remember,
you're not alone.
Please remember,
just where you come from.
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